Between Yesterday and Tomorrow
by thenopetrain
Summary: The team has to save some of their own when a foreign task force assaults the BAU. As they try to figure out why they're being infiltrated, they realize the answers are a lot closer to home than they realized.
1. Chapter 1

**This story has been….well it's kind of been stuck in my head the past couple of weeks and I KNOWWWWW I'm not very good at keeping up with stories. School, work, and social life kind of cut into my writing time. So bear with me please! Also, I'm sick so if this gets radomly updated, it's cause I'm editting for mistakes.**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it! I just borrow it.

* * *

There's a musky smell filling the air as he comes to. Something dark, a color of familiarity, seems to block his view and it takes him a moment to realize that it's a wall. He blinks in momentary confusion. The dainty sound of broken glass fills his ears as his senses arouse themselves one by one; smell, sight, sound…touch. There's a pain in his side that hinders his ability to roll over effectively, and with a soft groan he is forced to acknowledge it, coming to rest on his back. He lays there for a second, accosted by a wave of dizziness and heavy breathing, until it hits him. _The flashes of automatic weapons, the screams of various men and women, the shouts to stop, his own words forming as his gun rises, the gunmen turning towards him…_

He remembers jumping through the window to his office as bullets flew by him, shattering the glass. Somewhere above him the blinds clanged uselessly and he was mildly surprised to see them still intact, if not a bit disheveled and bent. More alarming was the way a red light flashed in the area. The incessant strobe had no sound; just a silent beacon that they were under siege. _In the damn building…_ It was then and only then that his stomach lurched with sudden fear. This new anxiety allowed him the strength to stumble to his feet, catching himself on the edge of his desk to gather his bearings. Silence filled the area of the bullpen, but that didn't mean it was safe. His gun hadn't been hard to find; in fact he'd nearly stepped on it in his haste to stand. With the reassurance of the heavy, cold weapon in his hand he quietly stumbled towards his door; leaning heavily against the wall before hesitantly peering out into the destroyed room of the BAU.

The glass doors were shattered, some of the desks overturned where people had tried in vain to establish some cover from the flying bullets. Various bodies lay strewn across the floor; some felled where they had been standing, others as they had tried to turn away. A sick sense of dread threatened to rise up inside his throat but he swallowed hard. _They're not down there, you know they aren't._ Reid and Prentiss were with Strauss, one of the most secure rooms in the building. Garcia…she could have been heading down the hallway when the shooting started, or they could have gotten her in her office thinking that she was an easy target…that she had all the security. She could be a hostage.

_If they mean to take hostages._ A doubtful voice inside his head had already counted off the various ways in which these kinds of people operated. There were two types of infiltrators: those who shocked the population, took hostages, and made demands…and the other one involved less hostages and more deaths as a means to get what they wanted. _Other times… it doesn't matter who gets in their way._ He cleared the stairs just in time to hide behind the large filing cabinet as two men ran down the hall yelling rampantly into their comm units, mini-Uzis in their hands. He poked his head around the corner, holding his breath, and hoping that the coast would be clear. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself with a load of gunfire. He made it into the hallway and looked down to his right where JJ's office used to be, _clear_, and then to the left where Garcia's lair was, _clear._ He decided to head towards Garcia's office, hoping beyond hope that what he found in there wasn't going to parallel the bullpen. As the hallway darkened, the still flashing of that red alarm the only source of illumination, he couldn't help the anxiety building up inside him and the unease that seemed to tenfold when he realized her office door was ajar.

Slowly creeping into the space, his gun leading the way, he found most of her computers tipped over, some sparking, papers scattered, and dolls askew. Her big screen was blaring an eerie green, but nothing was shot up, nothing looked incredibly damaged. Her main computers were still blinking, and the others were on standby. It wasn't until he noticed the slow _tap…tap…tap_ behind him that he realized she was still in the room. He would have turned around, he would have told her to stop, but the stick of a broom hit him straight across the face, making him stumble away from her.

"Aw God…" He groaned in lieu of a curse word, holding his head with one hand as he caught himself on her chair.

"Rossi?"

"Ya." He managed.

"I'm so sorry!" She squeaked. Rushing to him, Garcia pulled him into a hug. He couldn't help the sigh that escaped his mouth as the relief of her being alive dawned on him.

"It's ok, you alright?" Rossi's voice was muffled as she squeezed him a little tighter before stepping back.

"No. I am _not_ alright! Those people…they…they killed everyone!" She was on the verge of tears now, peering down at the broom she'd discarded on the floor.

"Not everyone." He gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Prentiss and Reid are in Strauss's office, Morgan, Seaver, and Hotch are in the field." He made to lean up against her desk, sitting in a slouched manner, his eyes squinting in the dark; completely content with resting for a moment or two. "Did they come in here?"

"Almost. I made the mess you see now."

"Smart." He glanced back towards her main computer. "Can you pull up the security feed for the building?"

Garcia's hand flew to her cover her forehead dramatically. "You wound me with your doubt, sir." In literally three seconds, she had their entire floor up on her screen.

"The bullpen." Rossi had moved to stand beside her, one hand on her desk, the other on the back of her chair. "Rewind until the shootings start." For a few minutes they watched nothing but a ruined bullpen until Ross came back up on the screen, his earlier movements all in reverse. It didn't take long after that for mayhem to appear on her computer. When everything seemed normal again, Garcia pressed play and promptly covered her eyes. Rossi watched as a familiar looking man glanced back at someone near the coffee machine, who nodded slowly and began to reach into his jacket for the automatic weapon hidden there. Everything moved quickly from there. Six other men assisted the two from before. It was chaos for a few seconds; he saw people trying to get away, he saw himself, saw the men shoot at him, saw them continue to shoot into his office. But when everything was said and done...He hit pause and ran a hand through his hair. _Pull yourself together, Dave, _he thought as he mentally willed his heart rate to slow down.

"Boss?" Garcia's questioning gaze started to roam his face and he gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. Feet pounding down the hallway in the distance made the techy jump, and when she turned around Rossi was checking the cartridge in his gun. "Grab your laptop, we need to keep moving."

* * *

They'd made it to the stairs, opening the door, and stepping onto their floor landing when Rossi stopped.

"You need to get rid of those heels."

"Oh, right." She was instantly slipping them off and bundling them up into her arms. Rossi turned to give her a look; one eyebrow raised. "What? These are the latest from Jessica Simpson; I'm not tossing them." He started to laugh when Garcia's bright smile faded into something akin to panic. Rossi turned, not needing to ask what was wrong. The gunman saw them around the same time Rossi pushed Garcia out of the way. The man brought the gun up, fully intending to shoot both of them but never got the chance when Rossi fired twice; causing the man to tumbled backwards. He rushed down the stairs, ignoring Garcia's panicked calling for him. He checked for a pulse, found none, and went to grab the discarded gun.

"Rossi! Behind you!" He wasn't ready for the arm that slithered its way around his neck and started to squeeze. When the man lifted Rossi to his feet, he shoved back, using the man's momentum against him and caused them to catapult into the opposite wall. Caught off guard, the man released Rossi just enough to give the older profiler a chance to throw the back of his head into the assailant's face. A satisfying crack made Rossi smirk at the telltale sound of a nose being broken. The gunman howled in rage and reached to cup his nose as blood started pouring from it. With the man momentarily stunned, Dave launched away from him and back towards the guns he'd dropped. What he didn't count on was how fast the man would recover until he felt a combat book strike his right side. That sharp pain from earlier exploded, causing him fall to the ground.

Gasping for air, he looked up to see the man hovering over him; a sick smile on his face. Dave, trying to catch his breath, lashed out with one foot, catching the man in the left knee which buckled and caused him to go down, putting his face back in the range of Rossi's other foot which crashed into the man's skull; sending him to the right and causing him to hit his head on the railing. Somehow finding the strength to climb to his feet, Rossi watched the man for movement before retrieving the guns and stumbling back up the stairs. Garcia, who'd started to walk down in order to help him, stopped when he ushered her back and away from the two downed men.

"Up." He grunted as he gently took hold of her arm and led her up the three flights they needed to climb in order to reach the floor that housed Strauss's office.

* * *

The stairs were harder to manage than he'd expected, and by the time they reached the landing to Strauss's floor, he was behind a rather shaken Garcia, who hesitated at the door.

"You seriously _are_ a super-agent." Her voice was shaking as she tried to make light of the situation. "Because honestly, I didn't know you could fight like that!" The words seemed to die in her mouth a little, because when she turned around David Rossi was leaning his left shoulder against the wall at the top of the steps, his arm wrapped around his abdomen. The soft "oh my gosh" that sounded from the analyst was only the beginning of her fussing over him as she carefully pried his arm away from his side. The small wince that crossed his facial features sent her into a myriad of different apologies. He tried to push her away, a new determination in his tired eyes.

"I'm fine." But when he tried to straighten himself up, he stumbled again, this time steadied by Garcia instead of the wall. She could tell he wasn't fine; he wasn't _fine at all_. His face had a sheen of sweat over it, his eyes seemed to refocus every time he had to move, his breathing was heavy and shallow, and he'd gotten paler in the last few minutes. He was definitely not fine. "We need to get to Strauss's office. That's where Reid and Prentiss are." He bit out as she supported him, her hand just grazing the source of injury, making him hiss in pain. Some look of horror crossed Garcia's face as she pulled her hand away and saw that her fingertips were wet with a dark substance.

"You're bleeding!" She was definitely panicking, trying to get a look at the wound when he stopped her, his hands grabbing both of her forearms and making her face him. And she wondered briefly where he'd found the strength to do that.

"It's just a scratch. Say it, 'it's just a scratch'." She repeated it with him, keeping eye contact the entire time. "I need you to focus, Kitten. I need you to help me. Can you do that?" Rossi knew that Garcia was a being of romantics, sarcasm, and believing in the good in everyone. He couldn't allow her to freak out; he couldn't let her start crying until they got to safety. And she was so damn close to crying. Her lip trembled, her eyes were watering, and the petrified look on her face broke his heart. Rossi was in protection-mode and right now he felt like he was failing. He wanted to keep Garcia in her blissfully ignorant bubble, he wanted to make her smile or laugh or something other than cry but right now she was just another dangerous encounter closer to breaking down. So he hid the truth from her, concealing it forcefully in order to protect her from a truth that would panic her. The truth was Rossi was fighting to stay conscious; fighting to keep the pain from showing on his face. _Have to get her to Strauss's office, have to get Garcia to safety._ And then, maybe then, he could evaluate just how bad that 'scratch' was.

"Strauss's office, righteo Mon Capitan." There's the Garcia they all knew and loved…

* * *

**Soooooo ya haha I'm already working on chapter 2 since I decided to write more than I wanted in chapter 1. So expect an update soon. I'm sick with the flu so if Garcia seems a bit stiff or out of character let me know and I'll edit it. And I know that this says Rossi/Prentiss as a fic, but that's cause it will eventually evolve into that ;D**


	2. Chapter 2

**OK here's chapter two. This one starts off with Prentiss, Reid, and Strauss while threading in Rossi and Garcia's current predicament, and with a bit of Morgan, Seaver, and Hotch in the end as they begin to figure out a way to save the rest of the team. Basically I know this is very AU considering that this would likely never happen in real life, but what's the wonderful world of fanfiction if I can't use it for purposes of my own? I guess I'm just selfish that way ;D Oh and by the way, I'm writing this while I'm sick in bed so if this gets updated randomly it's cause I'm editing it for sentence structure and the off chance that I missed a word or something. (which I already spotted a mistake for in chapter one, so ya.) Thanks to those of you who put this on your story alert! And thanks for the reviews p95000 and vampiremuggle!**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it! I just borrow it.

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"You think Garcia and Rossi are ok?" Reid asked as he paced from the couch to the window for the umpteenth time. Emily looked up at their youngest team member with a knowing, but sad frown.

"I don't know Reid. I hope so." Since the alarm had gone off, Strauss had seen fit to barricade them in her office, which was standard protocol, but that fact did not sit well with the two agents in her midst. For a while all three of them had been pacing around the room. But as of fifteen minutes ago, Strauss and Prentiss had taken up opposite seats in the office's lounge. Along with the aforementioned area, it also had a large oval table for conferences. The six chairs surrounding it were of modern style but despite the attempts at making the place seem elegant and topnotch, Emily couldn't help but notice the obvious authority radiating from the furnature. It was so fitting for the person occupying the space that it made the office seem cold.

"They're still in the building?" Strauss's _almost_ concerned eyes bounced back and forth between the two profilers.

"Ya, Garcia's been working on the security footage from the street lights like we did in New York, and Rossi was working on making a connection between the crime scenes." Emily, who'd been picking her nails, clasped her hands together and leaned her elbows on her knees as she addressed her superior, finding it a lot easier to talk to the woman when the building was in crisis mode.

"Where are the others?" Now she was just making small talk, occupying herself, and hopefully the younger agents in front of her. For no apparent reason, she found that it was a lot less stressful gaining information; which was making progress in her book. Strauss paraded an Ice Queen Façade but there were times when everyone was able to see through the armor.

"They went back to the crime scenes….shouldn't be back for an hour or so." Reid remarked, staring thoughtfully at a shadowbox of an ancient arrow hanging on Strauss's wall.

"What is it Reid?" Emily asked, shifting so that she was facing him.

"I don't know…do you remember that guy you were talking to before we arrived?" He turned towards Strauss who shrugged.

"Agent Perez." She said nodding. "He was informing me that measures were being taken to ensure the security of the building. He was with the DOD. Why?"

"I noticed something on his suit." Reid made his way over to Strauss's printer and yanked some paper from it, finding a seat next to Emily as he grabbed a pen from his bag. "Emily, remember the first crime scene, the arrow?" He asked rapidly, drawing a straight, horizontal line and then another line diagonally through it with an arrow on top.

"The Greek one you were talking about earlier." Prentiss quietly affirmed, trying to recall everything about the man that had seemingly showed up with a slew of other Agents from the Department Of Defense.

"Ya! I told everyone earlier how arrows refer to various meanings, though in this case I thought it was masculinity. Facing up," he pointed to Strauss's decoration. "By nature, they're phallic symbols. They can symbolize power, fire, and man's authority. Facing down they symbolize femininity and literally the womb of a woman. They're used in chemistry, math… They can also resemble the number three. In the Christian culture, it's believed that they rely on the triangle to symbolize the trin-"

"Focus Reid." Emily butted in, pointing at the brief sketch he'd made.

"What's this have to do with Agent Perez?" Strauss asked, also trying to get back on track.

"What's the symbol for the DOD?"

"An eagle….clutching arrows." Strauss answered sternly, not really liking where this was going. "You can't honestly be suggesting that the Department of Defense was behind what happened here this week and today?" Her incredulous voice seemed to send Reid into action as he started drawing again, this time something much simpler than before; just a modest triangle facing up.

"All of the men accompanying Agent Perez were wearing pins like this one." Reid said, tapping the paper with his pen eccentrically. But before any of them could try to make sense of what that meant, a knock sounded at Strauss's door. All of them assumed separate position; Prentiss by the door, her gun ready, Reid taking cover by the wall separating the conference area and the lounge with his weapon drawn, while Strauss rushed to her desk, her hand disappearing underneath it. She let her finger hover over the lock, watching Prentiss by the door, and pressed it when she nodded.

* * *

"What if they're not in there?" Garcia whispered as they crept down the hallway, passing doors, checking to see if they were locked or open, and clearing rooms meticulously. It was taking a hell of a lot longer than Rossi had planned and it was becoming increasingly apparent that staying awake was even harder than before. More than once since they'd left the stairwell, Garcia had had to keep him focused on placing one foot in front of the other; which wasn't an easy feat with the laptop and shoes she was carrying. At some point she'd decided that her Jessica Simpson heels weren't as important as she'd thought they were; discarding them in an office she would be sure to return to once this ordeal was over with.

"Then we'll figure something out." He mumbled. The pain in his side was killing him. Every office they passed was just another opportunity to sit down, to rest….to close his eyes. If they could just stop for a second…

"Rossi?" Garcia's small voice penetrated the haze of his thoughts. _When did I sit down?_ He glanced up at her; face drawn, breathing hard. She was tugging at his arm, trying to get him to move, and she was saying something; her face peering down into his frantically. Dave wanted to tell her everything was fine, that he was just taking a break, but the words wouldn't form. His vision blurred all of a sudden, causing him to shut his eyes as another wave of dizziness overcame him. "Rossi wake up!" She sounded so far away but it startled him enough for his eyes to open again. She was definitely crying now, no longer able to hold back the tears. He blinked at her slowly, and then she was gone.

He leaned his head back against the wall, trying to bid the darkness creeping in at the edge of his vision away. Rossi barely registered the hands grasping him under his arms as he was hoisted to his feet. The sudden movement made him gasp; his wound protesting painfully. It wasn't until he was being gently eased into a chair in Erin's office that he realized it was Reid and Prentiss hovering above him.

"Rossi can you hear me?" Emily gently shook the man's shoulder as he started to fade. When that didn't elicit much of a response, she shook harder; alarmed by his obviously serious condition. That seemed to tug him from the brink of unconsciousness.

"Prentiss?" He slurred, surprise and relief registering on his exhausted face.

"Right here." She said, her eyes searching his own. "You need to stay awake for just few more minutes." His eyes had started to roll back in his head when Reid snapped his fingers in the older profiler's face.

"Hey! Stay awake." Satisfied by a nod from their superior, the two were alerted by Garcia behind them.

"He's bleeding from his side." She said, pointing. Emily, who'd looked up at her friend, turned back and lifted the right side of Rossi's jacket back to reveal a ragged bullet hole in the navy fabric of his dress shirt. Her stomach clenched involuntarily.

"Reid, go help Garcia setup her stuff, use Strauss's desk. We need to get ahold of Hotch and the others." Prentiss instructed as she inspected the wound. "Ma'am," She turned to the Director who'd been standing nearby. "You don't have an emergency kit in here do you?" She knew it was a long shot, but if not, there should be one located just down the hallway next to the fire extinguisher.

"Unfortunately, no." She said stepping closer, openly eyeing David with worry, a look Emily had yet to witness from the woman. It was obvious Strauss and Rossi had a history, but what that history was, Emily didn't know. One thing was for certain though, the look on Strauss's face struck a nerve deep in her gut. What gave her the right to start caring again? There couldn't be more between them…could there? She found herself full of a feeling she rarely felt over a man; jealousy. Had she really allowed herself to come under the delusion that he would tell her if he was in a relationship? After the case concerning Matthew and her past, they'd been more open with each other, more comfortable. She felt safe around Dave, and that wasn't a usual feeling she got around men. Of course she felt safe around Hotch, Reid, and Morgan too but…there was just something else about the man that had her confessing things she wouldn't normally talk about.

"There's one down the hall." Prentiss finally managed to say, carefully tucking her feelings away for later. The room had become unbearably quiet as they stared at her.

"I can keep an eye on the cameras…I'm in the system already." Garcia offered from behind Strauss's desk. Reid's wide eyes were uncertain as Emily met them, but he shrugged; how else were they going to keep Rossi alive? Shirts and ties? All of them had basic medical skills; it was a requirement. But none of them were proficient enough to sustain a gunshot victim for a long period of time without equipment _and_ help.

"I can keep David awake until you return." Strauss offered, taking a step closer the agents. Prentiss hoped none of them had seen the way she'd tensed when Erin had come to take her place. _What the hell is wrong with you?_ Rossi could use all the help he could get but some instinct inside of her wanted to be the one to give him that help. She paused as Strauss bent down beside the chair Rossi was slouched in, and for a moment the Director hesitated, almost uncertain of her place and role in the room until she let out a tentative hand to shake Dave from his daze; and with that, Reid unlocked the door and Prentiss carefully made her way into the hall.

* * *

"Bill, any word?"

"Agents." Detective Bill Codwin turned and shook hands with the three agents behind him. "There hasn't been much of anything since we called you. Communications are being jammed from an inside source, and the gunmen haven't made any demands."

"What about getting into the building?" Hotch asked as he folded his arms across his chest.

"Bomb squad's working on clearing the door. SWAT had a scare about twenty minutes before you arrived." The Detective indicated to the men in large, armored suits inspecting the doors to the headquarters. It was a wonder the local PD was even involved in this at all, despite the swarming of federal agents outside, officers seemed to be working easily alongside other agency members. Hotch fished his phone out of his pocket as it started ringing, glancing at Morgan and Seaver.

"It's Fickler." He sighed and walked away to answer the call.

"The Director?" Seaver asked, turning towards Morgan as she stared after their unit chief.

"Ya." Morgan was glaring at the building; his hands gripping the table under the small tent they'd met Bill under. Ashley watched his jaw tense as he took a deep breath.

"I'm worried too." She murmured, falling into one of the fold-up chairs beside him. When Derek turned to look at her, she was trying to distract herself by looking at her nails. He sat down in the chair next to hers and leaned his elbows on the table, still watching the building ahead of them as if he expected the answers he so desperately wanted to come rushing from its doors. Four of the most important people in his life were inside that building and he had no way of ensuring their safety. He'd do anything to go back in time, to make sure he'd been in the building when…Morgan slammed his fists onto the table; shaking it and startling Seaver who looked up instantly. It was clear she didn't know what to say to him, they hadn't really bonded since she joined the team.

"There you are!" Kevin Lynch exclaimed as he hurried towards their table, placing the computer he had in his arms beside Morgan. "I was snooping around the firewall these guys have set up inside and Pen's IP flashed up on the screen for a brief second."

"You sure?" Morgan was now standing, unable to keep the tension in his muscles contained without movement.

"Course I'm sure! I'd know my shnazzy-super star's IP address _anywhere._" Ashley shifted a bit uncomfortably beside Morgan.

"Kevin's dating Garcia." Hotch said evenly, having just entered the conversation upon the analyst's proclamation.

"Oh." Ashley mouthed, obviously relieved at being brought up to speed.

"What did the Director want?" Morgan asked, still looking at Kevin's screen.

"Nothing important." Hotch folded his arms again, a frown on his face.

"Is there any way you can bypass their security without their knowledge and get in contact with her?" Derek asked, hoping for a positive answer from his Baby Girl's boy.

"If anything, Pen will break _out _before I break_ in_." He said, pushing his glasses further up on his nose, he began typing away.

* * *

_What's taking her so long?_ Rossi wondered absently as he tried feebly to get up from the chair they'd placed him in. But Strauss, his strength, and the wheels on the bottom of the chair were working against him.

"David you need to stay still." Strauss's eyes were troubled, her voice a fervent demand as she placed an arm across his chest to bar him from getting up.

"Where's Prentiss…?" He whispered; his voice rough as his hand reached to clutch his side. Erin watched his face for a moment, her hand moving to cover his own.

"She'll be back soon. Garcia and Reid are managing her progress." Rossi had turned to hold her gaze, and for a long while he allowed himself to just stare at the woman he proclaimed to hate; wondering why she seemed so dismayed at his condition. Not enough had changed between the time he'd left and the time he'd gotten back to make her care as if she were a friend again. "How did you get into this mess, mm?" Trying to ignore his critical evaluation of her, Erin opted to tease him.

"Charm..." The light smirk across his pale face was enough to make her laugh, despite the seriousness of situation.

Emily quietly entered a moment later, the emergency bag slung over her shoulder, and she stopped when she saw Strauss's hand on Rossi's; applying pressure to the wound. _Snap out of it, Em._ Reid hit the button to re-lock the door and Prentiss rushed to Rossi's side.

"We need to lie him down." She said, starting to ease Rossi into a better sitting position. "Are we any closer to contacting Hotch and the rest of the team?" She asked as she and Strauss attempted to position Rossi on the floor.

"Just a few more minutes, and I should be able to get past this wall." Garcia sounded frustrated as she typed away, glaring at the stream of code in front of her. "Who are these guys?" It was definitely meant to be a rhetorical question, but Reid went into a long spew of data that he'd told Strauss and Emily earlier. "Reid, you know I love you and even though I may be the oracle of all things good, I can only handle a few mysteries at a time."

Around the time Emily had staunched most of the bleeding from Rossi's side and bandaged it, Garcia had established contact; which was evident in the squeals and self-proclamations coming from behind her. Emily grabbed a large piece of gauze, leaving a passed-out Rossi with Strauss, and headed towards Garcia and Reid, who were currently Skyping Kevin. Behind him Hotch, Morgan, and Seaver all peered seriously into the screen.

"Hey guys." Emily greeted, trying ignoring the fact that it was Rossi's blood she was currently trying to wipe of her hands.

"How's Dave?" Hotch asked, his brows furrowed in concern.

"Asleep." She sighed, leaning back against the bookshelf behind Strauss's desk. "Or passed-out. He needs help we can't give him, Hotch." She admitted; a note of defeat in her voice.

"We're trying to get to you guys as fast as we can, ok?" This time it was Morgan that spoke into the camera.

"Reid, what were you saying about the men in the bullpen earlier?" Hotch asked, a look of contemplation suddenly crossing his face.

"Just that they seem to be part of an organization impersonating DOD agents, but I don't know what organization would be able to break into a federal building like this one."

"Kevin, honey, I'm sending you some stills of these guys. Run them through every facial recognition system known to man." Garcia piped in, her eyes concentrated on the windows beyond the live feed she had going with the other half of the team. "I think they're on to me. We'll try to get back on later, but check those files! Bye!" Garcia hit exit, rerouting herself along different networks and addresses; just in case.

"They'll find us sooner or later." Strauss had come to stand in front of them with her arms crossed.

"What do you mean?" asked Reid.

"Because what they want is in this room."

* * *

**Alrighty how's that for the first two chapters? Let me know what you guys think. Your opinions are greatly appreciated. I also have no clue if there's a button in Strauss's office that can lock and unlock her door; but for all tense and purposes, there's one in this story. And if some of you were wondering about Bill Codwin, he's the detective from the "25 to Life" episode. If anyone has more info on the character, since I don't really recall much about him but Rossi knew him by his first name so…anyway, if you have info pass it on! 8D R&R!**


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